Give Me Liberty
by coonassblondie
Summary: HP/QAF crossover. Ten years after the final battle, Hermione decides it's time for Harry to take a vacation. She sends him to her cousin, Brian, in Pittsburgh to learn to enjoy his life and his freedom. He doesn't count on Draco following him. Slash.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **So, this is my first attempt at a crossover. It'll be Harry Potter/Queer As Folk, my two favorite obsessions. It's a bit slow in coming at the moment, as I do have some fest deadlines to meet. Yes, I'm aware I have other fic that needs to be finished (grins maniacally) but, this bunny bit me and the tenacious little bastard won't let go. If anyone seems OOC, my apologies, but for me, crossovers by nature are a bit AU anyway. I'm going to keep it as Canon as possible in both genres, setting the story in Summer '07, making Harry 27 going on 28.

**Warnings:** SLASH. This means male/male pairings, people. If you don't like, I would suggest you stop reading about now.

Hermione quietly watched the pale young man asleep in her back seat in the rear view mirror. His messy black hair, which had grown out a bit in the past year, hung down in his eyes and her hand twitched with the effort of not brushing his fringe to the side. Harry snorted slightly in his sleep and turned sideways in the seat, propping his legs up and crossing them as his light snores filled the quiet interior of her car.

Hermione looked over into the passenger seat, and grinned at the tall red-haired fellow who was watching fascinated as the Scottish scenery flew by his window.

"I cleared it with Mum, I'll go home with you for a few days and then we'll return to the Burrow until term starts again." Ron said as he casually draped an arm across Hermione's shoulder. Her cheeks reddened a bit in response but she didn't reply. After a few quiet moments Ron looked over at her in consternation, as she seemed very focused on the sleeping form of their best friend.

"Sickle for your thoughts?" Ron asked quietly.

"Hmm? Oh, I was just thinking about Harry's having to go back to that creepy old house. He seems miserable there at times, doesn't he?"

"I'm sure he is, after all that's happened…" Ron trailed off, feeling the tell-tale burn of tears and not wanting to appear silly in front of the woman he had fancied for some time.

"What if he didn't have to? Do you think he would be happier?" Hermione asked quietly, eyes still trained on Harry's sleeping form.

"What do you mean 'if he didn't have to?' What have you got up your sleeve?" Ron grinned, knowing that the brightest witch of their generation could come up with quite a scheme.

"Well, this is what I had in mind…" Hermione began outlining the plans she had been making since Harry had told them he was going to stay at Grimmauld Place this summer, renovating and preparing it as a fit place to live with his future bride. Hermione wasn't an idiot, she had seen the smile-almost-grimace Harry had had plastered on his face as he grit out the word "bride" through clenched teeth. As she got more in-depth, Ron's grin got wider and slowly blossomed into a full smile. This was a doozy, and hopefully, Harry would enjoy every minute.

* * *

Hermione ambled slowly down the alley in London, trying to hide her nervousness. She could feel the smooth wood of her wand in her pocket as she approached the man ahead of her cautiously. He was thin, but with broad shoulders. His lanky black hair fell down around his face, giving her a disconcerting reminder of Professor Snape. He was wearing a nondescript black leather jacket and had a lit cigarette hanging between his lips. Hermione had the brief, hysterical thought that this man certainly fit her stereotype of a drug dealer.

"Don't sell drugs anymore, just papers now." The man mumbled around his smoke as he looked up, catching her amber gaze with a pair of shockingly blue eyes, taking Hermione by surprise.

"Are you a Legilimens?" Hermione asked, off guard, before realizing that this fellow was probably a muggle. He snorted in response as he took the smoke out of his mouth and dropped it to the ground, grinding it out with the toe of a black snakeskin boot. "Nah. Just good at reading people, and it was written all over your face. My…friend…said you needed some documents?"

Anton cocked an eyebrow at the short curly-haired woman that had appeared in his alley. Not quite what he expected, as he had been hired to draw up fake identification and a passport for a lad about six feet tall with messy black hair and green eyes. An unusual request, sure, but he had managed. He waited patiently for her answer, wondering if he had the wrong person and the lady was in a place where she shouldn't be. He internally shrugged his shoulders, if the lady was the witch she appeared to be, then she could take care of herself. Anton reached into his inner jacket pocket and produced a manila folder and presented it to Hermione.

Hermione looked over the documents: a muggle high school diploma, a muggle driver's license and a passport all with a picture of a young man that looked very similar to Harry, sans the lightning bolt scar. _Well, you can't have everything done for you_ her conscience supplied as she pulled a wallet out of her beaded bag. She counted out two thousand pounds and handed the money to Anton before turning to leave. It was a bit much, but she was appreciative that he had managed to get what she needed so quickly and quietly.

Anton looked down at the roll of notes she had handed him and grinned. He would make sure that his contact knew that the lady could have anything she needed in the future.


	2. Chapter 2

A few days later, Harry sat on Ron's bed in his upstairs bedroom at the Burrow, looking from one best friend to the other, wondering if they had lost their minds.

"You're not serious?" Harry asked for confirmation before he could stop himself. Hermione grinned widely in response.

"Of course we're serious, Harry. You need to have some fun in life. Now that the castle is rebuilt, and students have started coming back in droves, and before you take on the responsibility of the Auror department, you need to go out and experience the rest of the world."

"Really, now? And how am I supposed to do that, 'Mione? I don't have any kind of ID, much less a passport. I have very little working knowledge of the muggle world, and from the little bit that I have, I've little desire to go back."

"That's because you've never really experienced life as an adult. You've been under Dubledore's or McGonagall's thumb since the day you started Hogwarts. I reiterate, you need to get out and live your own life, and we…" she gestured between herself and Ron, who had helped pay for the fake papers and transportation out of the reward money they had received from the ministry. "…are more than happy to help you make that happen. As far as ID and a passport, everything you need is in here. Just keep your fringe grown out, so your scar stays covered." Hermione winked at him as she handed him the manila envelope she'd received from Anton.

"And just where am I going, and where am I going to stay, Miss Know-It-All?" Harry asked with a small grin, finally coming around to the idea of a much needed vacation. He'd been teaching Defense and helping rebuild the castle for almost ten years, along with helping the Aurors round up the last of the Death Eaters. At the beginning of the next term, Harry was prepared to take over the Auror Department from it's current head, as the man was retiring. Doing so would make Harry, at the age of 27, the youngest head of the Auror division in history.

"I rented you a suite at the Marriott in Pittsburgh. Galleons convert into quite a bit Pounds Sterling, and that converts to quite a bit in US Dollars." Hermione grinned as she handed Harry a large wad of paper notes, held together with a paper clip. "I'm wasn't sure if that's enough, so I got you one of these. The Goblins were surprisingly helpful." She handed him a pocketbook that looked very similar to the muggle cheque book he'd seen his Aunt Petunia pull out from time to time when he was a boy. The paper drafts also looked like cheques, except they had the Gringott's seal on the top left corner along with his vault number. At his questioning glance, Hermione went on. "They are automatic bank drafts. Fill it out for the amount that you need to withdraw, and the paper will disappear. Within a few moments the amount you requested in the proper currency will appear in your pocket." Hermione then flipped to the last page of the book, where there was a chart. "Here's a conversion chart, should you need one. At the moment, one galleon converts to ten dollars American. That stack I gave you was roughly two thousand dollars, or about two hundred galleons, enough to keep you in food and transportation for a while."

"Why on Earth did you pick Pittsburgh?" Harry asked, curious. Apparently Ron and Hermione had gone to a lot of trouble, and he didn't want to seem ungrateful, but he honestly knew nothing about the city, and was curious as to why Hermione would pick it. Hermione rarely did anything without a reason, and this should be no different.

"I know it seems an odd choice, but I have a cousin there who'll meet you at the airport. His name is Brian Kinney, he owns a club in the downtown district. That's about all I know about him, as I haven't seen him since the summer before fourth year, but he agreed to 'show you around' when I phoned him last week."

"Sounds like you two have everything planned out and ready to go. How can I refuse?" Harry asked, pulling Hermione to him in a tight hug.

Ron, who had so far not said anything, but rather been listening to the exchange with one ear while he skimmed a quidditch magazine, replied, "You can't, mate. Now go, have fun, and should the opportunity arise, get laid."


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor Queer As Folk. Those rights belong to J.K. Rowling and Showtime, respectively. I just like to play with their toys. I promise to put them back when I'm done.**

**A/N: So, here's chapter 3. And I'm currently writing chapter 4. Sorry about the slow update, but I really suck at a regular update schedule. (sheepish grin)**

Harry loved to fly, that was certainly no secret, and he was good at it. He was more comfortable on a broomstick, or the back of a winged creature, than on his own two feet, standing on solid ground. Harry certainly loved flying. However, Hermione's idea of flying and his were apparently very different. _This_, he thought to himself, _was more like the Earth dropping out from underneath me_, as he looked down out of the plane window at the many green pastures of Ireland.

Hermione had gone over his flight schedule, along with each faked document and what it was for, at least a dozen times before finally decided she and Ron needed to accompany him to airport. She insisted that the flight schedule could be a bit confusing, and Harry grinned briefly at the memory of her tight farewell hug and Ron's clap on the back as he shouldered his carry-on bag and prepared to leave Heathrow.

As his plane touched down at Chicago's O'Hare airport, Harry groaned at the thought of the hour's layover before his connecting flight to Pittsburgh. He gathered his things, managed to get off the plane in one piece, although on slightly wobbly legs, and find a semi-comfortable place to read the dime-store novel he had picked up last week in preparation for the long flight. His friends were unaware, or he believed they were, of his obsession with cheap trashy-romance novels.

Harry stared blankly at the words of the page, the print running together as he considered his forced vacation. He had to admit he was a bit excited to be visiting a new place, even if it did mean acting like a muggle for the next three months, although he figured he could use his wand in the privacy of his hotel room, should he get the itch to use up some of his magical energy. He didn't want any strange accidents to happen in front of Hermione's cousin, at any rate.

An hour and a half later, Harry heard the boarding call over head for his connection and started gathering his things. In the process of making sure he wasn't forgetting anything, especially his book, he completely missed the surprised look on the face of the blond that had just passed him on the way to another terminal, the other plane heading for New York.

* * *

As Draco boarded the connecting flight to New York city and pushed his overstuffed duffel bag into the overhead compartment, he found himself distracted by the sight of the latest Defense teacher, and future head of the Auror Department. The raven-haired man was obviously headed somewhere, but Draco was confident that Potter wouldn't have any Auror business to deal with in the states, or he himself would have heard about it already. Draco found himself annoyed with the fact that he had no idea why Potter was in the States, much less where he was going. The control freak in him liked to keep tabs on all of his acquaintances, which he referred to people in his sphere of reference, as he had very few people he considered _friends_, and what they were up to at all times.

Draco shook himself mentally, knowing that he had more important things to focus on than Harry Potter's travel plans. He was on his way to New York City to a meet with the owner-manager of an up and coming ad agency by the name of Kinnetik. Draco had never actually spoken with the owner, a man by the name of Brian Kinney, but he had had several conference calls with his accountant and his personal assistant, whom both sang the praises of both the company and it's namesake quite vociferously. It was enough to make him curious, although the pandering made him almost physically ill.

Despite his initial hesitancy to invest in the fledgling company, Draco was looking forward to this meeting. He had gotten Pansy, who was actually quite familiar with muggle electronics, to do an internet search on the man and his history, along with some background information. She had shown him a picture of Kinney, along with his life partner, that was with an article about a club he owned being bombed. If the article was anything to go by, the man was a born manager, and Draco's investment money would be well used. After all, the accountant, Tim, no, Ted, knew what he was about when it came to money. Draco knew it was completely shallow on his part, and that Kinney obviously had a partner he cared very much about, if the picture of them hugging was anything to go by, but he had decided to meet the man completely on his looks alone. Perhaps he would be investing in more than the company after all.

* * *

Justin waited impatiently for the man he was told had messy black hair, glasses and bright green eyes, at the gate as the passengers trickled out. He held a sign labeled "Harry" that he had drawn himself, knowing that the man wouldn't know what he looked like, but he felt like an idiot holding it up. People smirked at him as they passed him, or outright snickered, and he rolled his eyes in response.

The crowd was starting to thin, and Justin finally saw him. Brian hadn't mentioned the man was fucking gorgeous. He was about the same height as Justin himself, which actually surprised him, as Brian had told him he was an officer of some sort. He did have incredibly messy black hair, that looked as if it was growing in every direction at once, and Justin noticed he had the nervous habit of running his fingers through it every few minutes and making it messier. The man's eyes were the attention-getter, though. He had incredibly bright green eyes, the color of jewels, and when Justin finally got Harry's attention by waving the sign at him frantically over his head, he could see they were hiding some very interesting secrets. Justin loved nothing more than finding out someone's secrets.

"Are you Brian?" Harry asked, after dropping his backpack at his feet and clearing his throat nervously, and Justin nearly melted at the sound. His voice was broad, but not incredibly deep, and his accent was absolutely delicious.

"No, I'm Justin, I'm Brian's partner." Justin replied, after realizing he was staring, and his mother would have smacked him in the head for the lapse in manners. He offered his hand, and Harry took it, with a disarming smile that made Justin's knees turn to Jell-O. Harry's brows rose just a bit at the word "partner", and it didn't go unnoticed, but Justin decided to leave it be for the moment.

"It's very nice to meet you, Justin. So, I suppose you're to be my tour guide, then?" Harry asked with a bit of laugh as he shook Justin's hand. Justin simply nodded in response and started towards the baggage claim, Harry in tow. As an awkward silence fell, Justin felt compelled to fill it by explaining. God, he felt like a teenage girl on her first date. Not that he would know what that felt like, but right now he felt similar to what Daphne had told him about the first time she had went out on a real honest-to-God date with someone.

"I'm sorry Brian couldn't be here to meet you, but he had to go to New York to meet with a new investor. He runs an ad agency called Kinnetik, and it's really just getting off the ground, y'know? So, when someone is interested in giving him money, Brian is all over it."

"You must be proud of him, for his success." Harry replied with the same disarming smile as he grabbed what looked like a hope chest off the baggage claim and picked it up with very little effort. When Justin raised his brown in surprise at the man's strength, Harry shrugged and tried to explain.

"It's only got some clothes in it, so it's not overly heavy. I'm afraid we're a bit old-fashioned in Britain. Well, some of us, anyway." Harry chuckled at this and drug the trunk to a roll-cart and placed set it on the bottom with a loud thunk, throwing his backpack on top of it. "So, how do we get out of here? I'm thoroughly tired of airports."

Justin chuckled at Harry and set a pace towards the front doors, directing him through the metal detectors, which Harry just shook his head at and pushed the cart through, wondering briefly why the cart itself didn't set the detectors off. He mentally filed the question away for Hermione at a later date and followed his escort to the street, and to a cab parked at the curb.

"Sorry about the cab, but I don't own a car, and Brian took his keys with him. Probably to keep me out of his new Jeep." Justin explained with a rueful grin as he placed Harry's trunk into the cab's trunk, noting that it _wasn't_ particularly heavy, just a bit awkward. Harry shouldered his bag and the two men slid into the back seat, Justin telling the cabbie the address to Brighton, the house he shared with Brian.

"I know your friend made you hotel reservations, but you can stay with us if you'd like. We have more than enough room, and we won't charge you an arm and a leg. You'll just have to phone them when we get there, and cancel the reservation."

"Thank you, I appreciate the offer, and I'll happily take you up on it. I'm not fond of staying alone." Harry smiled another one of his bone-melting smiles and Justin felt heat pooling in his groin. He groaned internally, wondering if inviting this beautiful hunk of man to stay in the house, alone, with him for the next three days was the wisest idea he had ever made. He couldn't wait for Brian to get home.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Queer As Folk, those rights belong to J.K. Rowling and Showtime, respectively. I just like to take their toys and do inappropriate things with them.**

**A/N: Here's chapter four. Since I'm done with exchange fics, I think the updates for this story will be a bit more regular. I've been written with the fanfic bug, lol, and my muse has kicked into high gear. I've taken a bit of artistic license here, with Brian Kinney (who is played by the georgous Gale Howard). I'm not entirely sure what Gale's eye color is (I think they are brown), but I had to have Draco make the connection somehow. **

**Please please please review! I love them, they are like crack to me, and I try to respond to everything.**

**A/N 2: I normally have a beta on retainer, but her internet is down at the moment. I went over this, but if you find any mistakes, they are entirely my fault. Please let me know! **

Harry pressed the "end" button on the cordless phone Justin had provided him with and sighed in relief. He had never been fond of telephone conversations, although he was glad of his muggle upbringing for once. He suppressed a laugh as he imagined Ron trying to cancel hotel reservations via the "felly-tone". He held the receiver lightly in his hand as he decided to familiarize himself with his surroundings.

The house was a large, rambling split-level affair with a stair case in the front foyer that lead upstairs to what Harry assumed were the bedrooms. Beyond the entryway was a large, airy living room with squashy leather couches spread out, surrounding the fireplace, which was the focal point of the room. There was a large television, also, and a stereo system, both with a thin layer of dust on them, as if they didn't get much use, although the stereo was turned on at the moment. There was a classical piece coming out of the speakers that Harry didn't recognize.

A little further exploration let Harry into the kitchen and dining room, where he found Justin sitting at a workstation in the corner, working on what looked like an electronic easel, painting what looked like a mountain scene.

"That's very nice." Harry stated, making Justin jump a bit and grinning at the surprise on the blond man's face. At first meeting, Harry had thought Justin cute, if a bit bashful, but the young man had grown on him as they had shared the cab ride to Brighton. Justin had quickly opened up, telling Harry a bit about the last few years he had been spent in New York, putting his work on display and living the life of an artist, before realizing how desperately homesick and lonely he had become. He had packed his bags, caught the first bus back to Pittsburgh and shown up at Brian's loft, which Harry understood to be a very large flat from Hermione before leaving, in the middle of the night, much to the older man's surprise, and after a quick explanation, happiness.

Apparently, Brian had been noble and stoic and all that shite about Justin going off to "find himself" and holed up in his loft when he wasn't at Kinnetik, his company, working himself ragged. They had decided to finally go through with their civil union, and buy Brighton together. Harry had sighed happily at the romance of it all when they reached the house, and Justin had given him a very brief tour of the house before handing him the cordless phone and telling him he needed to cancel those reservations before the hotel charged his friend's card anyway.

Harry watched patiently as Justin picked up his stylus again and added a few more details to his painting before saving the file and putting his tablet away. He then turned back towards Harry, still sitting on the stool, face level with Harry's crotch, looking up at him. Harry had to withhold a groan as he felt himself getting hard at the sight of the younger blond looking up at him innocently, a charming grin on his face. Harry backed up a few steps to put some space between them, and Justin chuckled in reply before asking,

"So, are you hungry?"

_This is going to be a very interesting summer_, Harry thought to himself as he nodded in reply. He couldn't help but wonder what Brian would be like.

* * *

Brian was in hell. He hated this shit. He really, really hated shit like this. Why, for fuck's sake, hadn't he just sent Teddy along to take care of this shit himself? He could be back at Brighton, fucking Justin. Not sitting in a stuffy boardroom in a stuffy office in a stuffy building, waiting on some stuffy Brit suit to look down his nose at him as he interrogated him on what his company actually did.

Because investors never seemed to know what the hell they were investing in. As a course of habit, Brian had shown up a good half hour early to prep for this particular meeting, as this particular investor was fond of punctuality, or so he had been informed. According to Teddy, had quite a bit of money that he could throw around, although no one seemed to know where it all came from. Brian wondered briefly if it was drugs or illegal arms, then decided he didn't really give a damn, so long as he could talk this particular suit into backing him.

Brian looked up curiously as the door to the conference room he had reserved slowly creaked open, wondering if this investor was going to be another crotchety old creep or another greenhorn who stumbled over his words. Brian was pleasantly surprised when a blond man, about six feet tall with pale blond hair and an angular face, dressed in a charcoal grey business suit entered the room.

The man, a Mr. Malfoy, Brian reminded himself, set his briefcase down on the table, and Brian glanced over it appraisingly, noticing that it was made of a shiny black leather, and polished to a high shine, a gold name plate with the name "Draco Malfoy" engraved on it attached to the clasp. This man was money, and he knew it.

"Mr. Kinney, it's a pleasure to finally meet you." Malfoy stated in a clipped British accent as he held his hand out for Brian. Brian had the brief hysterical thought that he should kneel and kiss the man's knuckles, but before he could collapse in hysterical laughter, he simply smiled and shook Malfoy's hand firmly, replying,

"As it is to meet you, Mr. Malfoy. Shall we get down to business? I'm sure you've better things to do with your time."

Brian noticed that Malfoy smirked a bit as he sat down, as if he had been reading Brian's thoughts, but that was impossible. Brian wondered briefly if one of his facial expressions had given him away, before shrugging it off and pulling his proposal out of his own briefcase and settled in to convince Malfoy that investing in Kinnetik was the best idea in the world.

* * *

Draco was in hell. He really, really hated shite like this. Why in Merlin's name hadn't he sent his family barrister, or Pansy, who did accounting and secretarial work for him, along to this meeting instead of coming himself?

Oh right, because he was a shallow bastard and he thought Brian Kinney was kind of hot, and wanted to look at the real thing in person. Draco could feel the stress headache forming behind his eyes as the receptionist waved him toward a set of lifts when he gave her his name. He pressed the button of the floor he needed, noting wryly that it was the top one. Oh yes, Kinney had gone out of his way to impress him. Of course, the man was probably looking forward to meeting some crotchety old goat, such as his father, or some naïve twerp who couldn't get his head out of his arse long enough to learn his job.

Draco also had to admit that he was starting to become curious about what Kinnetik actually _did_. After all, if he was going to invest his family's galleons in a venture, he would like to know that it was worth it. He finally got to the conference room, and sighed in relief when he noticed that Kinney was already there. If there was anything he hated, it was having to wait on someone.

As Draco opened the door and stepped inside, he heard a sharp intake of breath and had to catch his own. He had come eye to eye with Brian Kinney, and it surprised him at how familiar their particular shade of golden-brown was. He had seen those eyes before, but at the moment he couldn't quite place them. Draco was confident he had never met Kinney before, but he couldn't shake the feeling he had seen him somewhere, at some time.

Draco set his briefcase down onto the table with a clunk, ignoring the assessing gaze of the other man as he introduced himself and held out his hand. Kinney was thinking so loud it was impossible not to hear him, legilimins abilities notwithstanding, and Draco had to hold in the impolite snort at the mental picture Kinney supplied. Draco decided he would get along quite well with this man, once they got past the formalities of business. Gods, how he hated this tedious bullshite.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of the Harry Potter characters, that right lies with J.K. Rowling, and Queer As Folk and all it's subsequent characters belong to Showtime (I think). No copyright infringement is intended and believe me, no money is being made. "Cause if I were making any money, the student loan company would see fit to leave me be.

**A/N:** Hi everybody! I'm baaa--aaack. Sorry about the delay in updating, I've started a new WIP in the Daria fandom called Ten Years. Unoriginal title of the year, right? I'll eventually re-name it. Anyhoo, I've been getting a shit-ton of alert additions for this story, so I figured it was about time for an update. Those of you who have added Liberty to your alert, or favorite story, thank you so much! 73 alerts, 24 favorites, and 5 C2's. I feel so speshul. Without further ado, here's the next chapter.

* * *

As Brian gathered the papers that had scattered across the boardroom table into a haphazard pile, he checked out the tall blond sitting across from him out of the corner of his eye. Mr. Malfoy, or Draco as he had asked to be called, was not overly tall, nor was he overly bulky; he was quite fit in the places that counted. Draco also sported shoulder length hair that was currently pulled back into a low braid and tied with a black silk ribbon, the only effeminate gesture that Brian could see on the man's person, or in his personality. Yet, it was enough.

"How long are you staying, Draco?" Brian asked as he shoved the signed contract into his own briefcase and snapped it shut. He stood, stretched his arms up and behind his head, then strode across the room towards the water cooler that had been strategically placed in the corner.

"I'm not entirely sure. I only had this one errand, and I admit the only reason I attended to it personally was sheer curiosity." Draco replied candidly, grinning at the other man. He knew Brian was curious about him, and he was enjoying the attention. Draco was no fool, he knew that in the very slim chance that he had sex with Kinney, it would be just that. He had nothing personal invested in the man, and knew the feeling was mutual, so he let himself be sized up.

"Oh, and what were you curious about that you flew three thousand miles from home? I'm sure this meeting could have been had via e-mail or teleconference." Brain replied, fishing subtly for Draco's reason for blowing so much time or money. After all, not many men in the world could jump on a plane at the drop of a hat, as he suspected Malfoy had done.

"Oh, that's simple, Mr. Kinney. I was curious about you. Although, I wonder if we haven't met previously, as you look very familiar."

"Have you ever been to the States? I'm confident I've never visited England, although if there are more men like you around, I might have to rethink my travel plans." Brian replied with a grinning leer as the two men left the conference room in stride and headed for the elevator bank. Draco, who couldn't help himself, let out a hearty laugh at the blatantly obvious compliment.

"No, I've never been outside Great Britain, except for attending an exclusive boarding school in Scotland for seven years." Draco replied, his grin falling as he thought of his rocky school career. _Rocky, yes, that's the adjective to use. You were a total prat, you almost killed the headmaster, you almost got your family killed, and you did get your best friend killed,_ Draco reminded himself as he pasted his interested smile back onto his face. The quick look mingled introspection, disappointment and sadness was not missed by his new acquaintance.

Something clicked in Brian's brain at the thought of boarding schools. His little cousin, whom he hadn't seen in several years, and also lived in England, had gone to a boarding school in Scotland. Very large and very exclusive, according to his aunt, via his mother. Well, the little priss _had_ always been a bookworm, and surely there was more than one boarding school in a country as large as Scotland, but Brian couldn't help but wonder. Draco caught the intense look of concentration on Brian's face and waited patiently for the man to ask him whatever he was thinking. Draco was prepared with a muggle-friendly explanation for Hogwarts that he had gone over and over with his father previous to taking over Malfoy Enterprises. He considered himself prepared for any question, except for the one that came out of Brian Kinney's mouth:

"Do you know a Hermione Granger?"

* * *

Harry woke in a cold sweat. He had thrashed so much in his sleep that the sheet and quilt Justin had provided him with were pushed onto the floor, and the sheet on the bed was half covering him. He scrubbed his face with his palms as he sat up and reached for his glasses, a rimless pair with unbreakable lenses Hermione had gifted him with the previous Christmas. She had claimed that they made his eyes stand out more, and made him more attractive. Harry wasn't entirely sure he wanted to attract any more attention than he received already.

Harry, who had fallen asleep in only his boxers, stood and flipped the bedside lamp on to assess the state of the bed in the spare room Justin had shown him. As he bent over to pull the fitted sheet back onto the mattress, he heard a soft cough from behind him. Harry stood up, back ramrod straight and shoulders tense, noting carefully that his wand was sitting on the bedside table, where he had taken it out of his pocket before laying down. He shifted slightly so that he was between Justin and the nightstand.

"I heard you talking. You know, in your sleep." Justin stated when Harry finally looked over his shoulder at the younger man. "Were you having a nightmare?"

"Something like that." Harry replied more tersely than he intended, then flushed in embarrassment. "Sorry, didn't mean to snap at you. I have a hard time sleeping."

"Brian said you were some kind of cop, like a detective. Did you have a case go wrong? You don't have to tell me, if you can't. Confidentiality and all that." Justin stepped into the room, the light from the lamp shining across his pale chest and hair.

"No, nothing to do with work, and yes, I'm an officer, of sorts. It's a long story, though, and not one for two in the morning. Perhaps after we get to know each other a bit better? You should head back to bed, it's late. I'll be fine." Harry replied, and Justin watched as his eyes became shuttered. Justin had always heard the expression "a person's eyes are the windows to their soul", but hadn't taken it seriously until now. He was now even more curious about the secrets that Harry was keeping so close to his chest, and he was curious about the funny stick sitting next to Harry's watch, that Harry was trying so desperately to shield from his view.

"Go to bed, Justin. We'll talk about it tomorrow, after I get some more sleep." Harry replied suddenly, finally turning to face his visitor. Justin's eyes widened at the large tent in the front of Harry's boxers, evident of his arousal. Harry was certainly well endowed. Justin could feel himself hardening at the fantasies he could be playing in his mind's eye as he jerked off. Sure, he and Brian had their "agreement', but Justin didn't want to take advantage of Harry when the man was obviously confused about his own sexuality.

"Alright, I'm headed that way. Try to get some rest, and I'll take you to get some breakfast when we wake up, or lunch, if need be. I know a place with great lemon bars." Justin grinned as he back out of Harry's room and started to shut the door. He left the door open a crack, just in time to see Harry pick up the funny looking stick, stroke it carefully, and lay down with it gripped in his fist under his pillow. Justin could've sworn he saw gold sparks shoot from the end, but shook his head and told himself he was suffering from sleep deprivation.

**A/N: **No limes yet, sorry! I know everyone was looking forward to a sex scene, but damnit, Harry and Justin barely know each other! And although Brian may have trained Justin in man-whore ways, Harry has had no such tutelage. Lots and lots of UST for you to gnaw on!

And finally a bit of a plot. I don't know if I'm going to have an active oh-my-god-drama kind of plot, or if this will just be fluff. I'm a bit of an organic writer (meaning I don't plan my stories ahead, usually, unless they are a gift of some sort), so I'll know at the same rate that you lovely readers will know!

Please please please leave me a review! I love my stories (they're my babies) and I want to know who else loves (or hates) them. Concrit is always welcome, and flames will be used to light a fire under Draco Malfoy's arse, hahaha!


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: **All of the HP characters are owned by the inimitable JK Rowling, and all the QAF characters are owned by Showtime. I'm not making any money. If I were, I'd have a lot less bills.

**A/N: **Apologies for taking so long to update, but between finals and fest fics, I haven't had much time to write my own stories. That will change after the first of the year. -slaps hand- NO MORE FEST FICS, lol. It's also a bit short, but I wrote until I reached what seemed like a good stopping place. The next chapter shouldn't be so long in forthcoming, but I always say that.

Also, there is a scene where Brian and Draco are in a Starbucks ordering drinks. I've only ever been in one starbucks' in my life and that was to use the restroom. As I don't drink tea nor coffee, I guessed. Please don't point that out to me.

Reviews are always welcome, and I try my best to respond to every one, on here if there is a username I can PM or an e-mail provided. Thanks so much for reading my story!

Harry woke the next morning to sunbeams flitting across his face from the window above his bed. He stretched, yawned, scratched his balls and kicked the covers to the foot of the bed before standing. He contemplated briefly whether or not he wanted to dress before trying to find the bathroom, as he was pretty confident he and Justin were the only two in the house and Justin had already seen him in his shorts the night before. Deciding abruptly that his bladder was more important at the moment than his modesty, he opened the door to the bedroom and glanced around, trying to decide which of the doors was the loo.

As he began towards the only door that was slightly ajar he heard the door at the end of the hall open and close, and ducked back into the guestroom as Justin, in all his naked glory, a towel flung over his shoulders, made his way into what was now obviously the bathroom. Harry groaned as he felt his morning erection surge. He had to admit Justin was very cute, and his face transformed him into an angel when he smiled. However, the younger man was in a committed relationship, and obviously cared very much for his partner. Harry didn't want to do anything to endanger that happiness, no matter how randy he got.

Harry heard the shower turn on and the sound of the running water made his bladder pulse again, and he knew there was nothing to be done for it. That was the only bathroom that he surely knew the location of. He could sneak in, take a leak, and sneak out without Justin knowing he was even there. It was worth a try just for the relief.

As Harry was shaking himself dry he felt a hand on his arm, and before he knew it he was being drug into the shower, the warm spray taking him by surprise.

* * *

Draco stood rooted to the spot, taken completely off his guard, which Brian could tell didn't happen often. The two men stood on the busy New York sidewalk for what seemed like an eternity, the silence stretching between them, although in reality it was only a few moments. A passerby jostled Draco enough for him to come to his senses. He grabbed Brian by the sleeve and dragged him into a deserted alley, noting that his wand was safely in his wrist holster. He could easily access it if he needed to obliviate Brian.

"Ok, I'll bite. How much do you know already?" Draco asked quietly, his shoulders tense.

Brian, who had been shocked when Draco had initially grabbed his arm, was now pissed off.

"Look, I don't know who you think you are, but no one lays a hand on me."

Draco waved off his complaint a muttered a quick, "apologies." At Brian's terse nod in acceptance, Draco took a deep breath and replied,

"Yes, I know Hermione Granger. How do _you_ know her?"

"She's my little cousin, although I haven't seen her in years. I didn't think there could be all that many 'exclusive boarding schools' in Scotland, although I've never been there and could be off the mark."

"No, no, not off the mark at all. We did indeed go to school together, but we weren't exactly the best of friends, if you catch my drift." Draco shut his eyes against the mental image of his aunt torturing Granger on his drawing room rug and the sound of Weasley's yells. That was a long time ago, and he and Granger had a passing acquaintance.

"That doesn't surprise me. She was a bit of a snot, but like I say, haven't seen her in some time. As a matter of fact, she called a few weeks ago to find out if I would host one of her friends for a week's vacation. You might know him also, a Harold something…" Brian trailed off, not knowing why he was volunteering so much information. He felt comfortable with Draco for some reason, as if he knew the blond had experience in keeping private things private.

"Harry Potter?" Draco asked, a bit surprised. So that's where Potter had been heading, to the home of the man he was meeting. What a small world they lived in sometimes.

"That's the one. So you do know him?" Brian asked as he began walking towards the main thoroughfare again and towards the closest Starbuck's. He'd skipped breakfast to make his flight on time and his body was screaming for it's missed caffeine. Draco walked along with him, taking a few minutes to collect his thoughts before he replied.

"I know of him, rather than actually know him. We're the same age, were in the same year in school, but I have to admit we spent most of it at each others' throats. I don't think he would be overly excited to see me."

"Sometimes time heals old wounds." Brian replied, as he scanned the menu and decided on a grande skim latte, giving his order to the perky girl behind the counter.

"And sometimes it wounds old heels," Draco laughed before he ordered a large Chai tea as he shook his head and pulled his wallet out. "Hopefully their tea is decent, I have standards you know."

As Draco stopped at the bar holding condiments and whatnot and began to pour a bit of sugar into his tea, Brain came to stand behind him, so close Draco could feel Brian's breath, warm on his neck. Brian stood so close he could feel his growing hardness against his back.

"And how do I measure up to your standards, Mr. Malfoy?"

* * *

Harry, who was rarely taken by surprise, was certainly surprised now. He stood staring at the grinning blond as he felt the warm spray run down his back and soak the arse of his shorts. Before he knew it, his shorts were gone and he and Justin were tangled in one of the hottest kisses, one of the only kisses, he'd had a long time. When he felt Justin's hand stroke his manhood, he grunted and pulled away.

"This isn't right." Harry mumbled sheepishly. Justin simply chuckled in response, and at Harry's skeptical expression, replied,

"It's fine, Harry. Brian and I have an…understanding. If he's what you're worried about, then don't. Just enjoy yourself."

Harry only took a half second to come to a decision, grinning as he pulled his shorts off and flung them over the curtain rod. He could feel the heat growing in his groin as Justin attacked his neck with licks, small nips and sucks. Harry growled in impatience and grabbed the shorter man by his shoulders, turning him to face the wall. He grabbed him by the hips, pulling him flush against him as he barraged Justin's neck with kisses of his own as he worked a finger, then two into his hole, scissoring them, preparing him.

At Justin's slight moan of ecstasy, Harry pushed himself into the smaller man, slowly, enjoying every minute of the sweet warmth provided. He was confident this was a one-time thing, and he wanted to enjoy every minute of it. However, when Harry felt Justin's arse against his groin and realized the man had taken him completely, something animalistic was loosed inside of him. He began to pound into the blond with a joyous abandon, Justin's moans filling the room and driving him on. Harry reached to slide his palm across the other man's prick, and was rewarded after a few strokes with an orgasm that made Justin cry out and tense up, bringing on his own state of euphoria.

As his now flaccid manhood slipped quietly out of Justin's sweet hole, Harry grinned and looked up as Justin shut the water off.

"What are you thinking about?" Justin asked quietly at the look on Harry's face.

Harry simply shrugged, pointed at the shorts that were now laying across the curtain rod and dripping with water.

"I think I've ruined my favorite pants. Didn't you say something about lemon bars last night?"


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: The Harry Potter characters belong to the inimitable J.K. Rowling, and the QAF characters belong to Showtime. I'm not making any money off this story. If I were, I wouldn't be in debt, now would I?**

**A/N: Sorry for the wait, lovelies. I had this chapter written a week ago, but on a reread I found a continuity error. I've been racking my brain trying to figure out a solution, and the only one I can think of is that Harry and Draco both had evening flights, so we'll go with that explanation! And as for Harry sleeping, he took a nap! Because I know for a fact that jet lag can really wear on you. **

**Also, to my lovely reviewer who mentioned the condoms, here's your explanation! Honestly, Justin may have been trained to be a man-whore but Harry hasn't! So we're back to the UST, yay! I promise that Harry will indeed get some action before the end of this story. Now, I'm going to take a poll. Do you guys just want fluff and smut or do you want to me include -OMG I can't believe I'm saying this- A dramatic plot? Let me know in a review! Enjoy reading!  
**

Harry's eyes snapped open as he came. He groaned and waved his wand over his stomach, cleaning the sticky mess off of his abdomen. He stretched, scratched his balls and wondered why the hell he was having wet dreams about his temporary host. Perhaps he was subconsciously attracted to blonds. He pulled up a mental image of Malfoy and shook his head to rid it. Nope, that wasn't the case. Too sleepy and disoriented to subject himself to any more self-psychosis, Harry threw his legs over the side of the bed and sat up, using his palms to rub at his eyes before grabbing his specs.

Something about his dream was nagging at the back of his brain as Harry randomly opened doors in the room he'd slept in. First, he found a closet, then an attached bathroom. As he emptied his bladder, it hit him. In his dream, they hadn't used protection of any sort. Harry snorted quietly to himself as he remembered one of the few civil conversations he'd had with his aunt over the years, just before his fourth year. She had seated he and his cousin at the dining table with a cucumber and a condom each. Both boys had been thoroughly embarrassed by the ensuing conversation, but neither forgot the lesson. Later that summer, he had blushingly asked Bill Weasley for further explanation about the reason for condoms, and Bill, trying desperately to keep a straight face, patiently explained what he knew of Muggle diseases, along with magical ones that could be transmitted sexually. Bill also stressed the importance of protection and offered to buy Harry anything he needed. Harry had thanked the man and had gone to him, or one of the other older Weasley brothers, several times over the years for advice, since he thought them as a surrogate family.

Harry had just stepped out of the shower and pulled his trousers on when he heard a light knock on the bedroom door. He threw the door open, and Justin stood on the other side, grinning as he raked his eyes across Harry's bare chest.

"So, you want to get something to eat?"

"Sure, sounds nice." Harry replied as his stomach growled loudly in agreement. He blushed a bit when he noticed Justin checking him out. He pulled a green tee-shirt on, one that Hermione had picked out for him, and pulled a white button-down over it, leaving it unbuttoned, since the weather was a bit warmer than he was accustomed to.

"I know just the place, I'll call a cab." Justin smiled in reply as the two made their way towards the living room. Harry wandered around, looking at the paintings hanging on the walls as Justin called a taxi company. A few minutes later, a yellow cab pulled up to the driveway and as they buckled themselves in, Justin answered the drivers query.

"Liberty Avenue, please.

* * *

Brian's eyes slit open as Draco stood and pulled his trousers on. The blond had been a good fuck, giving as much as he got, and a mouth that was out of this world. Brian was thankful he always carried a condom with him, as the smaller man stated that as he hadn't anticipated getting laid, he had left any and all protection at home. As Draco pulled his shirt on, he turned towards the bed as he buttoned it.

"I believe you might be worth investing in, Mr. Kinney."

"Much obliged, Mr. Malfoy," Brian replied as he sat up in the motel bed, his back resting against the headboard. "Justin would tell me I'm being remiss in not inviting you to return to Brighton with me, especially since you are acquainted with our houseguest."

Draco simply quirked an eyebrow at the name of Brian's home and smirked as he replied, "I'll consider it. For the moment, I need to make some calls to my office in London."

"Feel free to use the phone here." Brian replied as he lay back down, wondering if he was mellowing out in his age. A few years ago he would have let his fuck leave quietly with nothing said. Something about Draco was different, though, and Brian was determined to find out what.

"Quite alright, I left my black book in my own hotel room. I'll have an answer for you by the end of the day. I believe it's just a matter of exchanging my return flight to London for a flight to…Pittsburgh, correct?"

"Yea, the Pitts." Brian snorted in reply. Draco simply shook his head at the lame joke.

"Have a good day, Mr. Kinney. Perhaps I'll see you later." Draco responded as he knotted his tie and grabbed his briefcase. He would need to floo Pansy and let her know he would be few days in returning. Draco wasn't sure what was possessing him to follow Brian Kinney home, so he chalked it up to boredom and blackmail on Potter.

* * *

Harry and Justin exited the cab at the corner of Liberty Avenue, right in front of a busy diner that had the most heavenly smell wafting out of it. Harry insisted on paying the cab driver, taking a few minutes to figure out the American notes and inadvertently tipping the cab driver a ridiculous amount. The cabbie grinned widely and lasciviously as he told Harry to call him anytime he needed a ride. Harry simply chuckled, shook his head, and followed Justin across the walk into the diner.

"Hey, Sunshine!" A large red-headed woman that reminded Harry of an over-exuberant Molly Weasley bustled up to Justin and pulled him to her in a hug. "Who's your friend?"

"Deb, this is Harry. He's a friend of Brian's little cousin, here on vacation from England." Justin explained as he gestured toward Harry. "Harry, this is Debbie Novotny, sort of a surrogate mother to me."

"Ah, yes, nice to meet you Mrs. Novotny. I have a similar surrogate, Mrs. Weasley." Harry replied as he offered to shake the red-heads hand. Debbie simply popped her gum, pulled him into a hug and replied,

"We hug here, young man. And it's Debbie, or Deb, none of this Missus crap. Here's a menu, now go make some friends." Debbie handed Harry a laminated menu and he smiled gently in reply as Justin led him by the arm to a booth that held three other men. Justin and Harry scooted in next to a thin, cute dark-haired man. Across from him sat an older, albeit handsome, dark-haired man who was talking to a thin man next to him with dirty blonde hair and classic good looks.

"Harry, I'd like to introduce you to Michael, Ted and Emmett," Justin said as he introduced each of the guys in turn. "Guys, this is a guest of ours for the summer from England, Harry. He'll be around for about three months or so." Justin grinned as Harry quickly memorized their names.

"Where's Brian today?" Michael asked as Debbie, as Harry noted mentally to call her, set a plate of pancakes in front of him. "Ma, I didn't order these."

"Do I look like I care. Eat. Eggs for you, Teddy and a bowl of Wheaties for Emmett. You need to eat more, you're already a toothpick."

"Have to keep my girlish figure, Deb." Emmett laughed as he poured skim milk over his cereal. Debbie just shook her head, pulled her pen from behind her ear and asked, "What'll it be boys?"

"Usual for me, Debbie." Justin replied as Harry glanced over his menu. He was so accustomed to Kreacher making his food for him he'd never given much thought to what he did and didn't like.

"You'll have to forgive me, I'm not very familiar with American food. My, erm, cook does most of the choosing for me." This statement caught Ted's attention, and he quirked an eyebrow as he asked,

"You have a cook?"

"Oh, yes. Of a sort, anyway, he was my godfather's servant and when Sirius, my godfather, passed away he, erm, insisted." Harry wished fervently for a change of subject. He finally gestured towards Michael's plate and said,

"I'll have what he's having. You chose it, so it must be good."

Debbie beamed as she wrote down his order and bustled off toward the kitchen. Emmett, who had been thoughtfully munching on his cereal, swallowed and asked, quietly for his boisterous nature,

"What did you say your last name was, Harry?"

"It's Potter, why do you ask?" Harry asked, not missing the quick flick of Emmett's eyes to his fringe. A diner frequented by obviously gay men in Pittsburgh was the last place he expected to meet another wizard. And certainly not one who recognized his name.

"You need to go shopping with me later. You'll die in those clothes."

Harry simply shrugged as the other men chuckled at the idea of Harry being drug off on a shopping spree with their campy friend.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of the character of Harry Potter or Queer As Folk. Mmmm...boys.

**A/N: **I'm so so sorry it took so long to get this chapter up. Between work and school I've been kept pretty busy, and I've started on a new original story that actually has physical deadlines, so I have to stay pretty on to p of that. I promise even if it takes me a while to update, I will not abandon this story. This chap is a lot of exposition, and not a lot of dialogue, but it's necessary. There isn't any lemons this time around, but give it time, as I plan on working on the next chapter today, and Harry and Draco's meeting is coming up very very soon. Thanks for reading, adding me to your favorites, adding me to your C2's and reviewing. I love it all!

Draco made his way back to the hotel room he'd reserved for himself in the wizarding section of New York. He knew Kinney was onto him, especially after his little act of barbarism on the street. He felt his cheeks tingle and mentally slapped himself. He was always touchy at the thought of strangers, especially muggles, knowing anything about his past, and Kinney mentioning Granger's name had thrown him completely off guard. As he reached the sitting room of his suite he threw a handful of powder into the floo and shouted "Malfoy Enterprises, President's office, London!" before sticking his head in the green flames. He had to hold his breath at the spinning sensation to avoid chucking his tea onto Pansy, who was sitting at his desk, typing into a spreadsheet.

"Pansy, Dear, you know I love you." Draco began, and was cut off by his secretary-cum-vice-president.

"I know you do, Draco, what do you want?" Pansy replied without looking up from her work, "I'm a bit busy here."

"I can see that. Have I ever told you what a jewel of a VP you are, my best of best friends? You do such wonderful work, and you keep my books so neat and orderly, I'd be lost without you…" Draco continued, knowing he was getting on Pansy's nerves by the sight of her brows furrowing after every compliment.

"Apparently someone got laid last night, or rather, this afternoon your time. Who is he, is he hot, and how long are you going to be?"

"His name is Brian Kinney, he's pretty fucking hot, and he's invited me to visit his house, named Brighton of all things, and I'm not sure how long. Let's say two weeks for now, and if it's longer I'll let you know."

"Fine, Draco. Should I tell your parents your business has been extended or will you?" Pansy grinned at him. Lucius and Narcissa hadn't exactly been thrilled when their only son and heir apparent had come out of the closet, and still hadn't completely given up hope that this was "just a phase."

"I'll send them an owl, the less Father knows, the less he will hurt me." Draco grinned in response as Pansy chuckled and waved goodbye. He pulled himself out of the grate and set about writing a letter to his father, letting him know about the new investment and that he would be stateside for a few weeks to follow up on some financial leads. Even though the elder Malfoy was ostensibly retired from his business, he still liked to be kept up to date, so Draco attempted to send him an owl at least once a week.

As the owl flew from the window, Draco glanced around the suite to make sure nothing had been forgotten. After all, he would be staying with muggles, with the exception of Potter, and he wouldn't be able to just pop back anytime. He slung his back over his shoulder instead of his customary shrinking it, and apparated to the alley closest to the hotel Brian was staying in.

* * *

Harry followed Emmett around the clothes shop like a lost puppy. He had never actively shopped for his own clothes, having gone from wearing his cousin's hand-me-downs to letting Hermione or Ginny buy his clothes for him. What they bought that didn't fit could be altered magically, and he was satisfied to finally have clothes that actually fit his frame. He caught a shirt that Emmett flung at his head and added it to the pile of clothes hanging over his other arm.

"Alright, honey, I think that will do us for a while. The fitting rooms are this way."

As Harry made his way to the back of the store, Emmett threw his arm around the smaller man's shoulders and said in a lower voice, "I'm going to go in there with you, so we can have a little chat. Don't be embarrassed, you don't have anything I haven't seen before."

Harry blushed a bit at the blond's frankness, but simply nodded in agreement. When they had locked themselves in an airy cubicle with a small bench, Harry set about to stripping down to his underwear. He wasn't exactly bashful about taking his clothes off in front of other men. The Auror's dressed for work together in the changing room every day, after all, but he was acutely aware that he was in a very small space with a very handsome, very gay man, and he was very horny after his dream.

Harry mentally slapped himself as reminded himself that as far as he knew, he was straight, and had a fiancée back home. He ignored that fact that his stomach twisted a bit and he felt the urge to blow chunks at the thought of marrying his best friends little sister. He wasn't sure what had possessed him to propose in the first place, possibly the fact that he knew she'd been dreaming about marrying him for years, and had practically thrown herself at him since the final battle. He'd been finding reasons to postpone their wedding every since, and he was pretty confident she was shagging Dean Thomas.

"So, I finally get to meet the famous Harry Potter." The sound of Emmett's voice broke Harry from his thoughts.

"And how, exactly, do you know about my fame, when apparently none of your friends do?" Harry asked, feeling a bit like he was in the middle of an interrogation.

"Well, I'm not a wizard, so the subject has never come up, really," Emmett replied thoughtfully, tapping his chin with a forefinger before grabbing Harry by a belt loop and pulling him bodily towards him. "No, that shirt doesn't go with those shoes. Try the green one." Emmett handed him a forest green oxford and Harry set about to changing his clothes again.

"So how is that you know of me?" Harry asked, as he pulled the oxford over his head. He hoped they were getting close to the bottom of the pile.

"Aunt Lula. In Hazelhurst, Mississippi, where I grew up, I spent a lot of time with my Aunt Lula, who everyone always thought was a little on the strange side. A lot of people thought she was crazy, the nicer ones thought she was a little off. She would tell me stories of the magic world where fairies and dragons exist and one of the stories she told me was of Harry Potter the boy hero. I was grown before she admitted she was actually a witch and that the stories she told were true. Of course, I didn't believe her at first, so she showed me some newspapers her family had sent her from England about ten years ago, right about the time you all were in the middle of a war with the crazy guy, Moldyvort or something."

"Voldemort, or his actual name, Tom Riddle." Harry replied, softly, "He was a lot worse than crazy. Megalomaniac would be a better word. It was either kill him, or he would kill me, my family and my friends." Harry pulled on his original shirt and took a deep breath, "I appreciate the effort, Emmett, but just pick something out you think will look good. I trust your judgement."

"Oh, honey, I'm sorry." Emmett replied sadly as he pulled the smaller man into a comforting hug. At first, Harry stiffened at the contact. He had never been quite comfortable with gestures of affection, but after a few seconds he relaxed and returned Emmett's embrace. Harry cleared his throat, which had become suspiciously tight as he released the taller man and made his way to the counter at the front of the shop to pay for his purchases.

"So, do you know what we're supposed to be doing tonight?" Harry asked as the cashier swiped the plastic card Hermione had given him.

"Well, Brian is supposed to be home tonight, so I'm pretty sure that no matter where we start, we'll end up at Babylon." Emmett grinned.


End file.
